


If Baz died

by yunnikakennings



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:39:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7426000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunnikakennings/pseuds/yunnikakennings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe this was what Cath intended? I dunno... Basically just a different ending from the original in Carry On. (but I really liked the ending in Carry On!) ((:</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello (: this is my first timw writing fanfic and I just wanted to explore an alternative ending. I may update about once every three days.

Penny:

Simon's magic is draining our world. The Mage knows it. The Pitches know it. Everyone knows and war has erupted. The Pitches led the families on a siege of bloody attacks against the Mage. They're fighting, I ought to go. Mum shouldn't have locked me home. Not this time. Not when Simon is at risk. Not when Baz is fighting for a cause I know he doesn't even stand for. 

Simon: 

The wavering woods is full of shouting and chaos. The snow clings to my boots, weighing me down, and I can barely push my way through the thick brambles. I slouch lower into my boots, my head is clouded and everything is hazy and I-I-I can't think. Baz can. But he's on their side and he's plotting against me. I know he is. It's the way it has always been. The Mage can hide me but he can't hide me forever. Hide and seek only veils you for a short time, and gives you a little time to hide before they are free to search. So I do what I do best. I don't think. And I just keep stumbling along, snow falling heavily, my feet aching.

Footsteps. "Snow! Snow! Simon!" the voice hollers and ricochets through the woods. Baz. He's here. He'll kill me. I hurry away, feet shuffling in the snow, "Catch me if you can," I whisper and I'm off sprinting again, away and into the wavering woods. 

Baz:

On that day. When Snow and I actually have to fight each other. I might be immortal. But I'm the kind of immortal you can still cut down or light on fire. Snow is...something else. I don't think our side will ever put him out or contain him, but I know- I know- that I have to do my part. We're at war. 

But I never thought the tables would turn. I never thought there would be an uprising against the Mage. I never thought Simon would end up on the run. I never thought I'd be the one leading the Families to hunt him down. But I have to do my part. There's no other way.

"Snow. You know I'd find you!" I shout "Come out, come out, wherever you are! It's show time! Scooby-Dooby-Doo, where are you!" and memories emerge. 

Those days he tried to catch me in the catacombs. Those days he thought I spent plotting. Those days when our fight consisted of squabbling and not a war.

I shove the memories away. It's my job. It's my family. I can't turn my back on them. So I plough on through the snow. Stubborn snow.

Simon:

I don't know where to hide anymore. I can't keep running. I carried on like I could but if this is endgame then, then maybe I shouldn't carry on anymore. So I sit under a tree, snowflakes drifting onto my nose and I don't bother swiping them away. Stinging tears leak through my eyes, singeing their ways down my cheeks. Maybe it's better this way. Maybe I'd meet my parents when I'm finally gone. I could burn this forest and likely scorch Baz along with it but I couldn't. Wouldn't. Why? Why? Why wouldn't I?

I let my head flop onto my arms, curling into a tight ball to block out the cold. Isn't Baz my enemy? Isn't he? I try to retrieve those thoughts I'd always push out of my mind. I pull out the list of things I'd made of things not to think about. And I sit and think. Because it hurts to think about things I can't have or help but maybe that's all there is left to do. 


	2. Chapter 2

Baz:

If anything good ever comes out of being turned, it's that your senses are enhanced. Albeit sometimes having inhumanly perfect hearing, sight and smell can be a hassle. Because you can hear the direction in which your enemy's footsteps are headed. But you also hear the stutter of their heart, you know their fear, you feel sorry for them, you sympathize. You can catch a glimpse of him far off in the distance, the slight shadow cast off from behind a tree, the lean frame of his body almost completely concealed by a towering tree. But you recognize the fair shades of gold in his hair, you note the freckles that are just the slightest bit darker than they were when you both left Watford two years ago, you peer from a distance, acknowledging the little differences he has developed in the mere two years he was away. You stop and stand still, shut your eyes, point your wand.


End file.
